The world is a midnight dream, she whispered

To the silence of the night,

Enveloped in its full embrace of nothingness,

Still, with unblinking eyes.

Her thoughts traced along

The slender, wandering lines

Left behind by raindrops,

And her window seemed to cry

Silent tears of resurrection.

And through the glass,

The lamps outside glowed

Like flickering signals of sanctuary

Among a blackened winter's sea,

While the swirling air,

Disturbing the leaves' peaceful sleep,

Endeavored to become waves

Crashing onto a deserted, rocky shore.

The world is a midnight dream, she whispered

As a slow, heavy sigh escaped her lips

And clouded her featureless reflection,

Leaving nothing

But the faint outline of her eyes

Peeking out from the mist,

As if wondering where they belonged.

She traced the scars

The rain had left from storms before

As the warmth of her breath

Brought them back to life once more.

And through the fog in the high window,

She saw the stony ground glow orange,

Reflecting the light from the dim lamps in the sky

Like a crystal glass makes sunlight

Dance rainbows on a tabletop.

The world is a midnight dream, she whispered

To the silence of the night,

As she lifted a gentle hand to her window

And drew a clumsy heart to see things clearly

Through that white, choking cloud.

Pleased, she peered through the keyhole her heart had created

And gazed into the tides that carried her dreams

Upon the black waters of the late-night sea.

But all too suddenly, her breath began to fade,

Her fantasy stifled by the falling sands of time.

The world is a midnight dream, she whispered

To the silence of the night,

Faintly,

Wearily,

As her frail, clumsy heart

Vanished slowly with her sighs,

Lost forever to the biting air

Of a sleepless winter's night.